


Bruises

by PegasusWrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Comment Fic, F/M, Fifth Blight, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PegasusWrites/pseuds/PegasusWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elissa Cousland's story told through scratches and bruises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

'For goodness' sake Elissa.'

Another day, another scrape on another knee. Elissa's mother swore that she was the clumsiest child in all of the Maker's creation. Elissa didn't want to explain to her mother that she had more chances to get injured than most. She didn't want Eleanor to find out that she had been scrapping with her brother, again.

'Those leggings were new on this morning...'

Elissa said nothing, and did her best not to wince when her mother pressed a damp cloth to her scrape.

\---

'Are you hurt?'

Wynne was staring at her arm. Elissa pulled a face and tugged her sleeve. She hated fuss, especially from Wynne.

'It's nothing,' she told the healer. 'One of the big ones got me with the blunt end of an axe. It happens, sometimes, when one decides to get up close and personal with the Darkspawn.'

Wynne rolled her eyes, and Elissa grinned. She knew that the older woman did not share her enthusiasm for battle.

‘It’s just a bruise, Wynne,’ she said, trying her best to sound reassuring. ‘It will be gone by the morning.’

She gave the yellow patch on her arm a prod to show the mage that everything was fine. When Wynne turned her back, she wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. The bruise _would_ be gone in the morning, but right now it really, _really_ hurt.

\---

'What's that?'

They were on foot, making for Denerim. Elissa was in front with Alistair behind her. She turned around and saw that he was gesturing at her neck.

'What's what?' 

She felt around. The warm weather had brought out all types of insects. She swore that she would scream if another one had gotten to her without her noticing.

'Look, there. There's this mark, right...'

He moved to touch her. Insect or no, she was secretly pleased. She loved it when Alistair was free with his affections. She remembered the night before with a pleasant shiver. The two of them, in her tent, tangled in her blankets, Alistair biting down on her... on her...

She froze. For a moment Alistair looked confused. Then, he turned a brilliant shade of red. ‘On second thoughts, it’s nothing. Let’s keep moving...’

They shuffled on in silence, and did their best to ignore Zevran's hooting from the back of their party.

\---

How had she gotten down from Fort Drakon? Someone must have carried her, she supposed. A servant removed her armour. She was placed into a lukewarm bath. By the time they took her out and put her to bed, the water was cold. 

She stared at the canopy above her. She didn’t think of their battle with the Archdemon. She didn’t think of Alistair, his very last smile. 

All she could think of was the bruises, the bruises, all the bruises...

\---

'Your wrist.'

Velanna never said more than an handful of words to her at once. Now she was pointing. Elissa chuckled, and flexed the offending appendage. 'Yes, I must have hit it on something when...'

When... when... She couldn't remember. Lately, her body had become one constant ache. She didn’t notice new pains, new hurts. She took a step forward, and her head swam.

'Though now that you mention it,’ she said. ‘I do feel a little funny. Maybe I should speak with Anders...'

\---

'I'm sure it's nothing,' she told the healer. She was on her side, shivering. He wasn’t Wynne, but his hands were gentle. She was grateful for him, grateful that he'd stayed with her.

He pressing a bowl of something to her mouth. A broth of herbs. Elissa sipped, and spluttered. The green and purple had travelled up her side, her arm. She wondered if it would ever stop travelling.

'I’m sure it’s nothing. I'm sure it's nothing...'

\---

The next day she woke up, and she heard the song.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fic_promplty on Dreamwidth.


End file.
